


The pub

by anya_ackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Gen, Jealous Dean Winchester, Love Confession, M/M, Misunderstanding, Season/Series 01, Sharing a Bed, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anya_ackles/pseuds/anya_ackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean kisses Sam as the story begins and Sam pushes him when he does.<br/>But Dean is confused why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The pub

Dean cups the back of his head and pulls him tight into his body and kisses him on his lips. But it quickly turns into a wrestle for dean to get his tongue inside in desperate probing motions because for some reason Sam is not letting him in, his lips closed tight.  
Sam shoves him away by his chest causing dean to stumble back a few feet in surprise. Looking up he watches sam rub at his mouth with his hand, looking at dean with disgust and pain. It shatters dean for a second before Sam is walking out the door in a hurry in his grey v-neck and worn jeans.  
The door slams. Dean waits for two heartbeats. Then he follows after his brother with his jacket in one arm and Sam's on the other.  
Sam walks to the little pub around the corner. Its late enough to start drinking Sam notes and thanks the universe as he takes his seat in the bar, brushing each of his arms with the other hand. He orders a whiskey and starts to look around the place. He was here the night before, him and dean. He remembers the make shift dance floor with a single ball of light hanging above scattering blinding arrows of rays in all direction. The last time he was staring at it, they were hunting an incubus. Until things got messed up a little.  
Sam shakes away the images his brain seemed to be recollecting and dives into his glass of alcohol. His eyes fall on the door led by a narrow hallway. The door swings open momentarily when a tall man with beard enters the said door and Sam takes a quick view of what's inside. Pool tables! Well, table- Sam corrects himself mentally. He looks down to his half empty glass of whiskey and decides to down it all with a pinched face following the burn. "Keep 'em coming." He says to the curious hunk of a bartender who nods in response and turns around to fetch one of the whiskey bottles.  
Dean had barely spotted Sam walking into the pub. He can say he was honestly surprised, considering what had happened there and the outcome it produced evident still on dean's lips. He swings open the door into the pub to see Sam's back turned towards him, his attention elsewhere. But he brings his glass of probably-whiskey to his mouth and takes a gulp, eyes unwavering. Sam looks like someone expecting to see a rainbow emerge out of a unicorn's ass or something.  
Just in queue, Sam turns around to watch dean swagger his way to him.  
"Here." Dean says and throws the jacket morphed into a ball to Sam's face. He's lucky Sam catches it in time or the bitch face would have made an appearance and he is not in the mood. He takes a seat beside him, sighing.  
Dean drinks Sam's whiskey and winces while sam puts his arm through the sleeves of his jacket. Standing up and giving an involuntary brush of his palm over his chest, Sam murmurs something about scamming locals and walks past dean. Dean whips his head to see him walk through the door at the end of the hallway and downs the remaining of the glass. 

"A beer?" Dean lifts a finger as he says to the guy behind the bar. "And keep them coming." He adds.  
The bartender shakes his head as he fetches a cold one from the back. "This ones on the house." He says to dean placing it before him. Dean smirks at him as he grabs the neck of the bottle and looks over at the door. Soon enough a waitress is coming out the door and he gets a glimpse of his brother chalking up his cue stick. He takes another swing of the beer, waiting patiently for someone to pass through the door again. He doesn't have to wait too long. This time, Sam is bending over facing the door, smirk in place, ready to 'not-dip' the ball into the pocket. He couldn't see to confirm if he was right though. He doesn't need to. He knows sam. Moreover, he taught sam these moves himself. Hell, he can do this like a well rehearsed dance by now, even drunk. Specially drunk. Dean smiles proudly to himself.  
After a few minutes, another kind waitress carries shots of some kind on a tray into the room and dean catches sam sitting on a stool around the corner away from the door, cue stick between his spread legs and watching a tall lanky guy take a shot. He misses.  
With such an easy crowd its a piece of cake, scam or not, dean thinks but after a couple of peeks into the dimly lit room, Dean stands up and walks towards the door with his beer. "Alright Sammy, foreplay is over." He mutters under his breath and swings open the door in his grand entrance.  
Sam can not help himself anymore. That guy, tall and somewhat skinny, has been eyeing him throughout the game. Sam is not an amateur but he cant help feeling this warm flutter in his stomach from all the attention. Not the i-want-to-eat-you kinda attention he is used to getting from monsters but the normal, human kind. He realizes he has been starving for it since Stanford. No, he corrects himself, since dean had started leaving for hunts with Dad.  
Sam finds himself counting the years passed mentally and soon realizes that the guy is staring right at him and he is staring back. He averts his eyes, a little too late. The guy just missed his shot and is walking towards him. Sam doesn't look up until the guy practically stands on Sam's toes.  
"Hey. I'm Ian." He says tentatively and flashes a warm smile at Sam.  
"Sam." He finds himself returning the smile immediately. Ian takes the seat beside him and shifts so that he is halfway facing Sam.  
"So, Sam what brings you here?" Sam shifts to mirror Ian's position- out of politeness and nothing else of course.  
"Umm, just passing by." Ian nods looking closely at Sam. "What about you? You don't seem like you are from around here." Sam keeps his eyes on him.  
At that Ian grins all white teeth and says, "That obvious huh?" Sam scoffs and then exhales out a small laugh, a little nervous to be the focus of someone's attention, someone other than Dean. But Dean's looks have never been anything like Ian's. Those are concerned, brotherly looks that makes Sam sick with longing.

Just then like a tide, dean emerges through the door, eyes finding Sam's without a problem and looking away just as easily as he approaches the pool table and starts betting.  
Ian looks over at Dean as well and then at Sam, staring at Dean. "Uh, are you two together?" He finally asks.  
Sam whips his head in a flash to look at Ian, eyebrows knit, "No! No, he's my brother."  
Ian makes an apologetic face and offers to buy Sam a beer for embarrassing him which Sam doesn't even try to refuse.  
Dean was quick on making the bets and getting started on hustling 'cause apparently Sam hasn't gone through the charades. Good boy Sammy, too good to hustle Dean thinks and misses his second shot, looks over at Sam to see him laughing away with that lanky tall guy from earlier who right now is sitting way too close to Sam. Dean bets another sets of bill on the table, going through the motions solely by muscle memory for his attention never left Sam. At some point, the guy had to have slid closer, dean wonders 'cause the next time he checks up on his brother, Sam has his right hand over the guy's knee and leaning his body closer still.  
Dean grinds his teeth. 

Sam wonders how long he has been sitting here with Ian. Or how many beers he had had since the first. He looks over at Dean but he seems busy shooting balls around a table for money. Sam snorts and tries to pay his attention to what Ian is saying instead.  
"...So I told him, go fuck yourselves!" Ian announces raising and dropping both his hands. Sam laughs tipping his head back and catching himself from tumbling off balance on Ian's knee. "Sam?" Ian asks softly.  
Sam looks at him with the smile plastered on his face.  
"Do you wanna get out of here?"  
Sam frowns slightly and tips his head back to take another pull of the beer. He watches Dean trying to line up a decent shot. Sam hasn't been paying much attention to the game so he waits to see if he will play to win or lose this time. He carefully keeps the beer balanced on his lips while he waits.  
Dean actually gets all three in their pockets and, wait-for-it, smirks in this triumphed yet boyish way which Sam always finds fascinating. Suddenly in a flash, Dean looks up and meets his eyes. None claiming coward holds the other's gaze. Its a game they play sometimes since Sam returned from Stanford. The winner gets nothing, except the satisfaction of making the other squirm and lose his cool which if you ask Sam is just about okay. Sam levels his head to stare more fiercely at those green eyes but his heart thuds and his breathing gets shallow. Its adrenaline and arousal mixed in a complex drink of alcohol in his blood. He swallows a lump in his throat when he sees Dean's face morph from friendly challenge into something else entirely.  
Its a look he cant place yet it feels like he has been seeing it all along.  
A series of images swim across his eyes of Dean. At his high school prom that he almost missed but thanks to Dean, their Dad agreed to wait the night. Another one- Dean tucking Sam in stolen blankets from a donation truck when he caught a nasty fever, Dean covered in grave dirt and looking over at Sam before lighting the corpse, Dean in bed staring intently at the tv screen when Sam gets out of shower in a towel...but most importantly, the look on Dean's face just before he kissed Sam on his lips. 

He could swear its the same damn look, hooded and predatory and something else. Sam freezes in his spot and his eyes get twice as big with realization.  
Dean's confusion only grows when Sam's pleasantly glazed eyes turn shocked and somewhat horrifying. Dean waits it out against his instincts to go check on his little brother.  
Sam finally looks away to Ian. The seat is empty besides him. Sam figures he deserved that. Drinking away the remainder of his beer, Sam hauls himself out the door and then out of the pub altogether, only stopping at the bar to pay for his drinks and apparently Dean's too. Meanwhile, Dean collects his winnings and follows him out the door, fast.

"Sammy?" Dean calls when he sees Sam walking out without looking back.  
Once he is out, Dean almost runs to catch up with Sam. "Hey, what happened?" Dean asks once he gets closer to a swiftly walking Sam.  
No answer from him, only the sound of gravel under their boots and the buzz of the street lights above.  
"Sam!" Dean demands this time, trying to order out a response, like John. But Sam only keeps his head down and trying to walk faster than Dean which isn't too tough given his long legs.  
Dean catches his elbow and spins him around to a stop. "Would you look at me damn it?!" Its not much of a question just a low snarl.  
"What Dean? I have been looking at you, all night, all my life!" Dean draws back a little on Sam getting hysterical all of a sudden. "What more do you want?" Sam pauses then continues with glazed eyes focused on dean's, "Do you want me to confess my 'love' to you or something 'cause You cant do it yourself?!" Sam actually air quotes the word 'love' which means he's losing it. 

"Sam, you're not making any sense dude. This is me asking you to clarify shits, like, why the hell you bailed out of the motel room in lightning speed."  
Sam looks at him pained. As if merely thinking about it hurts him. Sam takes a minute to collect himself before he speaks, "I thought you pity-kissed me Dean."  
Dean squints at him. "Is that even a thing?"  
"Yes! After the hunt, I was messed up and i saw how it fucked with your head too Dean. I watched you lying in your bed, staring holes at the ceiling and just thinking. And then you kissed me. I could only think how you'd have to have convinced yourself to do it, to make me happy or whatever drives you to do such stupid things for me, like that time we burned down a forest with fire crackers and -"  
"Get to the point you drunk dork." Dean resist a tiny smile from appearing. That is one of his best memories with Sam.

Sam gapes at him for a moment. Clearly and utterly wasted. "The point is, Dean, I know now it was not pity-anything. You love me. You have been in love with me forever. And you were just scared that I don't feel the same for you. But kissing that incubus in the pub, god he looked just like you, even the freckles, and he kissed me, god, I thought You were kissing me Dean. And you were moaning in my mouth, rubbing yourself on me -"  
"That wasn't me, Sa-"  
" I know. But in my mind it was you, then you killed that son of a bitch and I saw you, your face all big and shocked when you heard me moan your name just before killing that incubus. We weren't even done kissing!" Sam almost pouts at the end like a toddler.  
"Do you realize you'd have been sucked dry if I had let you 'finish' your kiss?"  
Sam gapes at him again.  
"Okay lets get you to bed princess."  
"But-"  
Dean walks Sam to the motel, now that Sam is completely wobbly, the alcohol taking effect quickly.  
Dropping him onto the bed, Dean starts to unlace Sam's boots from dangling legs.  
"Hey Dean."  
"yeah."  
"Would you sleep with me tonight?" Dean concentrated on getting the boots off instead of his growing erection.  
"Don't think its a good idea Sammy." Dean mutters, moving to unbuckle Sam's belt. Sam is sprawled on the bed, unmoving besides his eyes which are tracking his brother's every movement.  
"Don't worry I won't rape you." Dean freezes and looks at the drunk sasquatch grinning at him. He exhales and swallows to control his hands from moving anywhere unnecessary. The belt finally comes off.  
"Come on D, just the night. I need you." 

Dean would've laughed if he wasn't trying to get rid of his painfully now-erect dick in his pants. Sam always knew how to get to dean.  
"Okay, baby boy, done. But just for one night. And no spooning!" He almost forgets to add.  
Sam's grin gets bigger.  
Finally Dean gets rid of his pants and shirt and lays down in only his sweatpants. Sam has only managed to pull off the jeans.

So two brothers share a bed, one topless and the other in his boxers.  
Neither of the two mind though.

**Author's Note:**

> Nor do we! :)  
> So if you like this, show your appreciation in kudos and comments. Think I might make a mini series out of this


End file.
